Whitney's POV
"Come on Whit" Jen begs through the phone "It'll be fun"
"No" I answer for what feels like the 8000th time in this mere 5 minute long conversations "I already told you, Jake and I have plans"
"Screw Jake, you two live together for Christ's sake. You two can have plans whenever the hell you want" she points out "This is going to be killer. I'm friends with the guy who's throwing the party."
"Friends?" I ask suspiciously. The term "friends" with Jen usually means "former one night stands."
"Yes, friends" she repeats with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"What's his name?" I challenge
"Alex or Alan or something" she answers with a moan "I don't know. I just met him the other night. But he invited me tonight and now we're going"
"Do you remember what happened the last time that you took me to one of your hipster parties?" I test walking into my bedroom. I lie down on the bed and rest my arm across my forehead. She's silent which signals me a "no."
Well, to refresh your memory" I continue "You got wasted, you left with some guy and the keys, in return leaving me stranded in God knows where until Jake could come rescue me. Do you understand me apprehension?"
"I won't drink" she offers "I promise"
"Can I bring Jake?" I attempt to sway her.
"No" she shoots down "I do not want to have to listen to that prick bitch all night because some other guy does so much as look at you"
I sigh in sign of my surrender. "I hate you sometimes."
"Love you too bitch" she laughs. "Now go get ready. I'm picking you up in an hour"
"Alright I'll see you then"
I hang up my cell and toss it across the bed. Now what to wear? I'm glad she gave me so much time to get ready. After a minute or two, I settle on a pair of dark skinnies, a purple sequined tank and black pumps. I never know how to dress for these sorts of things, mainly because half of the time, I never know what I'm walking into.
Since meeting her in my freshman year of college, I've grown to love Jen, but a lot of the time, I hate her lifestyle. She's one of those girls who will drop everything to follow some band across the country on a tour. Then she meet the guitarist or something, sleeps with them, and that's how she makes all of these "friends."
And the concerts she drags me to, dear God. I once ended up at some crazy ass metal show with insane kids running around everywhere, head banging and moshing. Not my thing at all. Granted, I left after the first song.
My problem is that I like to be a people please. I hate fighting. I hate drama. I'd much rather just go with the flow than have a major blow up over stupid shit. This is why I am one of those people who tend to get screwed over a lot. But, hey, its life, shit happens.
Like the shit that is going to happen when I tell Jake that I won't be hanging out with him tonight. He's not going to be too happy. Don't get me wrong. Jake is a good boyfriend. No. Jake is an amazing person. Just ridiculously territorial. Ever since his mom died a year ago, he's had a constant watch on me. I guess he doesn't want to lose the only other important woman in his life.
6' 5". Former football player. Jake is my gentle giant. And put next to my petite, 5' 3" frame, we're a sight to see. I love him dearly, but sometimes I wish I had more space. More room to breathe.
Speak of the devil. He walks into my room just as I plug in the straightener.
"You're a little dressed up for movie night, don't ya think?" he comments looking over my evening wear.
I bow my head. "Yeah…umm…I'm gonna have to cancel on movie night"
"What?"
"Yeah," I continue "Jen wants me to go to this thing with her"
"One of her coke-head rocker parties?" he asks. Him knowing her for almost as long as me is a disadvantage sometimes.
"Jake it's not like that" I sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed "you've been to these things before"
"So I'll just come with you" he recommends.
"You hate parties" I point out "especially ones filled with 'cokehead rockers' "
"Well, I'll come just to be with you"
"Jake its fine"
"No. Really Whit, I'll come."
"Seriously"
"What's the big deal if I come?" he shouts. I hate it when he does that. "I really do not get it!"
"Jake, I'll make it up to you" I promise taking hold of his hand. He violently shakes it off. "We can do it tomorrow night."
"I'm leaving for New York in the morning" he pouts.
"Oh yeah, "I remember quietly "I'm really sorry babe"
I stand up and attempt to give him a hug, but I am denied. He acts like a 6 year old little boy sometimes, not a 25 year old man. It's often tempting to hit him.
"Really?" I question, growing pissed off myself, "Really? Grow the fuck up."
"Whatever Whit," he responds and leaves me alone in the bedroom.
************************************
"Just a minute, Whit. I just wanna go say 'hi' to someone"
Yeah, well that was an hour ago and I'm left alone as usual.
I hate being left alone. It's a major fear of mine. I hate the feeling of being surrounded by faces that I don't know. The feeling of constantly being watched. It drives me insane. So, I'm trying to lay low; keep moving.
I told myself a while ago that I wasn't going to drink. Cuz wherever Jen is right now, it's probably not the most sober place, meaning that I am going to have to drive the two of us home. But, at the rate this night is going, I'm gonna need at least one beer.
I try to find my way to the kitchen. But for being owned by a couple of 20-some year olds (as Jen had told me), this place is huge. The lucky bastards.
I enter a room filled with people. And when I say "filled", I mean jam packed, wall to wall. It doesn't take me long to notice what everyone is watching. Two guys by the backdoor, each doing a keg stand. The mob of people is acting like this is an Olympic sport. Cheering, yelling, shit being thrown. It is ridiculous.
I stand towards the back of the room simply watching this display of male immaturity. I really can't believe I'm here right now. I should be at home with my loving boyfriend, at least then I wouldn't be alone.
Finally, the guy on the left falls to the ground and stumbles a bit. He runs a hand through his curly mess of blonde hair and screams "shit!" The crowd lets out moans of disappointment. I can't help but to chuckle.
I watch the guy on the right fall next with a smirk on my face. The crowd erupts into cheers and start chanting "Tom! Tom! Tom!..."
I shudder. "Tom".
How that name still haunts me. After all this time, whenever that name is mentioned, I can't help but to glance up from whatever I'm doing, though I know it will never be him.
But never say never, I suppose.
The smirk is wiped clean from my face, Its him. It really is him. I can't fucking believe it. How did I not see this before? Though I guess when suspended from the air, it's hard to tell what anyone looks like.
I can't stop myself from staring at his beautiful face. Big, brown eyes. Pale, porcelain skin. And those gorgeous, full lips that I've kissed many times before. The only thing that's changed in 4 years is that his hair is longer now.
4 years. Wow. I can't believe it's been that long. It seems just like yesterday were at prom together and waking up in each other's arms the next morning. That was when things were perfect between us. Before everything went to hell.
I hate him.
I watch that cocky son of a bitch slap his competitor on the back. "I'll be expecting 20 bucks later my dear friend," I mouth read from across the room.
This situation is like a horrible car accident. No matter how much you want to look away, you can. I'm frozen in place. It's like there's lead in my shoes. Part of me wants to run away, just leave. Then there's the other part of me that is just so tempted to walk up to him and slap him in the face. We never had a formal goodbye. I never got the chance to do that.
"No fucking way!" Curly blonde guy denies, "You cheated!"
"Yeah, Max," Tom agrees sarcastically "I cheated"
He continues to hug a bunch of guys around him and receive high fives and handshakes. And for some reason, I find myself still standing there. What is wrong with me?
My entrancement is broken by his beautiful brown eyes making contact with mine. Oh shit. He saw me. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"I'll be right back," he says slowly, breaking away from the group of people, coming my way. Shit again.
By now, every single part of me is screaming "RUN!" and thank God, my body starts to respond.
I push my way through the massive amount of people, getting a few dirty looks in the meantime, but I really don't care. Rounding the corner to the stairs, I nearly impale a body sprawled out across the floor with my heel. People are so stupid.
As I reach the top landing, I have two options: a door to the right and one to the left, a hiding spot. I go with the one on the left and slide through the door, praying that there isn't some drunken couple intertwined in the sheets.
Thank God. Silence. Well, silent in comparison to the rest of this place.
I'm pissed as hell at Jen. This is why I hate getting left alone. I pull out my iPhone and text to her "Where the fuck are you?"
I sigh out loud and take a look around my safe haven. Decent size. Queen bed along the window. And hanging next to that, a giant Aerosmith poster. Wow, is this guy 14?
"Whit?" That ever so recognizable voice comes from behind me. I turn around quickly to see Tom standing there looking me over, a smirk on his face. "What, uh, are you doing in here?"
"I…uh…." I stutter. This sucks. Words Whitney. Words. "What are you doing in here?" I finally spit out, folding my arms across my chest.
"This is my room you creep," he chuckles.
"Oh," I say quietly. I wasn't quite expecting that. What shitty luck I have. "So you're the Steven Tyler fan girl? I should have known."
"Yeah, that would be me" he smiles looking down at his shoes and rubbing the back of his head. He has such an adorable, innocent smile. It's like that of a 5 year old little boy. You can't help but to just want to pinch his cheeks. But, as always, I'm forced to remind myself what he did to me. That sure wasn't innocent.
"So…." I say, not sure what else to.
"So…." He looks back up at me still smiling.
This is a bad situation for me to be in. It's too tempting. Look at him standing there. His black skinny jeans fit tight to his thighs. And his equally tight grey t-shirt with some scarf over it. Part of me wants to take off that scarf and kiss every inch of skin that it's covering. And then the other part just wants to take hold of each end of that scarf and pull tighter and tighter…
This night has been the ultimate test of my inner good versus evil.
"I'm sorry. I'm gonna go." I announce abruptly, heading towards the door. He grabs hold of me.
"You don't have to"
The touch of his hand on my bare shoulder feels as if it could burn right through my flesh.
After the time passed, I can't help but to still care about him. I mean, after all, we dated for nearly 4 years. That's longer than Jake and I. I never really did get over Tom. I'm always one to hang onto things, especially people. And seeing him again is really weird to me. I haven't seen him forever. Last that I knew, he was at college in Ohio. That's where everything fell apart and that's where I left him.
He's been playing guitar for as long as I can remember. And now he's doing it for a living. Powerspace I think Jen told me his band's name is. Who knows. But, I'm happy for him. I'm even happier though that things ended when they did. Cuz I know that something was going to end up getting dropped and it wasn't going to be the guitar.
"I don't?" I ask stupidly
"Well if you want to, go 'head" he offers "but you can stay and talk if you want."
"Isn't that what we're doing now? Talking?" I smirk and raise an eye brow.
"Yeah, I guess so." He laughs. "How've you been?" He rubs the side of my arm in what is supposed to be a comforting manner but does nothing but send chills up and down my spine.
"Good," I exhale, gaining back some composure. "Things have been good. How 'bout you Mr. Rockstar?"
"Ahhh Whit, it's great" he tells me, "like you can't even understand. It's amazing."
"Good. I'm glad to hear that you're doing well." I force a smile and then fail to swallow all of the biting comments I want to make. "I'm sure you can get any girl you want now, huh?"
He looks at me as if my words hurt him, but he replies coolly, "Yep. Pretty much."
"You're life goal completed: screw as many girls as possible. Congrats." I shoot back, "When I left you I'm pretty sure your type was slutty blonde from the sorority down the street."
He takes a step closer to me and I take one back. I don't wanna be that close to him. I can't. God only knows what I'll do.
"At that moment, yes." He agrees, "But my type has always been you."
I gulp. "Has it now?"
"Always has been; always will be."
He takes another step closer and I take another back. A hard surface brushes my back. A wall. I've backed myself into a fucking wall. He leans into me, placing an arm on the wall above my head, blocking my escape route. He's close enough now that I can smell the beer on his breath.
"Tom, you're drunk" I tell him, "don't do anything stupid,"
"I'm not drunk," He assures me.
"Yeah, sure." I mumble. He pushes a piece of my long auburn hair out of my green eyes and puts his free hand on my hip.
"Tom, I have—"I try stopping him.
"You don't have to go anywhere" he disagrees.
"No. That's not it. I have a—"
"Shut up," he orders with a finger under my chin, lifting my face up to his level. And next thing I know, his lips are crashing into mine. And for some reason, I don't stop him. The taste of his kiss is so sweet, I can't help but to want more.
He pulls my body in closer to his and I wrap my leg around him to justify his action even more. The way he kisses me, it floods my mind with so many amazing memories. It feels as if the fire between us was never put out.
But what I'm doing to Jake is the same thing that Tom did to me. It's wrong, but still doesn't stop me. I'm perfectly content in my nostalgic mindset right now.
I can hear the door handle jingle then open. I automatically push Tom off of me and his lips fumble on mine a bit.
Jake: The first thing that pops into my mind out of instinct. He followed me here and now sees this and is going to flip shit. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
But never before have I felt such pleasure in guilt.
Thank the good Lord it's not Jake though. But the person who is there catches me off guard just as much: Jen hanging all over some guy. He wouldn't be so bad looking if he got rid of that mullet-esque haircut.
"Whit?!" she laughs smiling at me.
"I….uh…."
"Is this your girlfriend?" the guy with the mullet slurs.
"Wait, you're a lesbian?!" Tom asks confusedly.
"What?! No!" I deny.
"Oh" he sounds almost disappointed.
"What is Jakey Wakey gonna have to say about you swapping spit with another guy??" Jen teases.
"Don't you dare" I threaten.
"Wait, who's Jake?" Tom asks, sounding just as confused as before.
"My boyfriend" I admit quietly.
"You have a boyfriend?!" More confusion.
"I tried telling you Mr. 'I'm not drunk' but you wouldn't hear it! I of all people should know when you're going to do something stupid. And what did you do? Something stupid."
"I'm lost" Jen chimes in "you two know each other?"
"Yeah" I answer "we used to…."
Tom smacks mullet boy on the arm. "See her, Alec? I got to tap that ass for 4 years"
"Ugh!" I hit Tom hard in the stomach. He's doing that whole macho asshole thing just because his friend showed up. I hate that.
"Wai-hai-hait!" Alec intervenes, "This is hot high school girlfriend that you have unsuccessfully been cyberstalking for years?!"
"And this is cheating college douche bag Tom?" Jen adds.
"Yeah" we both answer in unison. That needs to never happen again.
"What a small world" Jen comments.
"Well if you love Jen" Alec says to me, "and Jen loves you. And you used to love Tom. But Tom still loves you and may have a shrine to you in the back of his closet and…and…I really don't know who the hell I love, but there sure is enough love in this room to go around. Ya know what that sounds like to me?"
"Bullshit out of a drunk guy's mouth?" I guess sarcastically.
He ignores my comment and proceeds to scream, "FOURSOME!"
I seem to be the only one who is completely repulsed by this suggestion which is…ew. I chose to ignore it though.
"Your' not going to tell Jake are you?" I ask Jen.
"No" she answers "a change will do you good. "
"It's not a change" I correct "It was simply a temporary lapse in judgment."
"Call it what you wish" she replies.
I roll my eyes. "Why were you guys coming in here anyhow? Don't you live here too?"
"Well, you see, my dear and new friend," Alec answers, "I do live her. Right across the hall actually. But that room at the current moment is occupied."
"So you were going to fuck her in my room?!" Tom exclaims, "Not cool man! Not cool!"
I don't know how Jen just stands there and lets people talk about her like that. She's probably used to it, but if that were me, I'd be pissed. Hell, I'm getting pissed enough for her.
"Don't worry man!" Alec assures Tom, "There's still enough room for you two!"
Oh my God. I roll my eyes and announce: "This is the part where I leave. Lovely meeting you Alex and Jen, I'm ready to leave whenever you are."
I start heading for the door and hear: "It's Alec! Why can't anyone get that right?!"
I ignore him and go out in the hallway. Tom follows.
"I'm sorry about him," he apologizes.
"Its fine" I shrug and turn on a heel to walk away. He grabs my shoulder.
"Why don't you and I have coffee tomorrow?"
"Tom, no." I shoot down. "Tonight was enough proof that we can't be trusted alone together."
"I'm sorry." He desperately tries to recover. "You're right. I'm drunk and acting stupid. But tomorrow, I'm going to be too hung-over to try anything. And I'll be half dead and probably won't be thinking and say something stupid like how nervous you're making me right now. And…and…Please. It's Starbucks; not my bedroom. NO Alec or booze or foursomes or anything. No biggie right?"
I can't help but to laugh at his groveling, yet I still say, "I don't know…" But one look in those eyes is all it takes. My inner people pleaser betrays me yet again. "….I guess it wouldn't hurt…"
"Thanks a lot, Whit. You know where the Starbucks is in Barrington? By the McDonalds?"
"Yep," I confirm.
"Meet me there at one?"
"That works"
He smiles. "Okay then. It's a date"